Existance, free me
by Mythalie169-TreeSpirit169
Summary: Yuri/possible yaoi; 'There is no truth in existance. We live to exist; we exist to live. Life as a human is pointless and boring. This world's already screwed itself with a huge spiked dildo of sins, but, hey. What do you say to helpin' it?


Just something I wanted to write to make myself feel better; do read my other stories...?

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"Look here, you little _dyke_." It spat, blond hair frizzing out aggressively as a long fingered hand _tugged_ and_ yanked_ and _tore_ at the toasted-nori colored of its victim. "I'm not fuckin' _interested _in you freaks. I like hot cock in my pussy, not a fake cold one! Why in the fuckin' _hell_ am I touching you anyway! It's disgusting! I'm getting your sick fuckin' lesbian germs on me…"

"Then maybe," scratched a raspy voice made so by pressure on her windpipe, "you should _fuckin'_ let me go."

"Oho!" she jeered, squatting down next to the _thing_ on the floor and looking back, smiling evilly and knowingly back at her _click_ of blonds backed against the bathroom wall, snickering and laughing at today's entertainment, "Well, well, some fight in you still?!" _Slap_.

Deep, dark laughing bubbled from the thin junior, her hair obscuring the sound's origin, "Is that the best you're gonna do? Pussy slap me?" She spat, blood accumulated from previous attack and saliva staining itself on the white uniform shirt on the golden-haired slut. "You bitch!"

"Aho!" She laughed again, bringing herself up on one knee and whipping the red substance crawling out of her mouth from the pissed punch just thrown with her navy sleeve. "Now _that's_ what I'm talking about, baby. Hit me like you mean it." "_I'm not your fucking __**baby**__!!!" _she screeched_. _

Her pink-nailed hand untangled itself from the back of the kid's head, joining the other in a neck tackle, squeezing it as she sat atop the upturned body.

The person acting as a seat laughed loudly, maniacally, and thrust her lower body against her threatener, "Oh _yeah_, baby. Just like that. You must like it to be sitting on me, holding my hips down as I grind into you…Mmm" she moaned tauntingly, "_yeah…_"

"Ugh!" she retorted, standing up and stepping onto the mosquito-bitten chest, "You—YOU ASSHOLE! How DARE you!"

Repeatedly she kicked, provoked by the sickly-looking girl's damn laughing, "Aha, oh _fuck_," she breathed, inhaling more to laugh harder with the increase in strength behind her assault, "oh God, you might want to stop soon, I think you're going to send me into orgasm, Britt."

"Shut the FUCK up!"

"Oh yes baby, I love it when you get _aggressive_. _Rawr._"

"Dammit! Stephanie! Go get me something _harder_!" she bellowed, scaring the short, pudgy, short-haired blond of her attention.

"Like a dick!" the girl sitting on the floor chimed in.

"What the hell is it gonna take to get you to be quiet!? You fucking disgust me so much! But no matter how much a fucking try you just keep laughing!!"

"_Oh_," she groaned, coughing and cleaning her mouth roughly with her overused sweater. She nodded to the remaining faction of ditzy blondes, "Orgy, maybe?"

Two of the four girls lined up against the stalls snickered, the other two; gasped in repulsed horror.

"Ugh!!!" She flew at her again, punching the kid's clenched jaw forcefully. "Here, Brittany!" Shouted the errand-girl…dragging in a chair. "It was outside!"

"Yeah, yeah, Stephanie, I don't fucking care. Just gimmie it."

Grabbing a hold of the back, she pulled it from the hurt girl's hands, lifting it above her head for a power-hit. "Die!!"

_Clang_.

At the last minute, the girl jumped up, despite what she knew was a fractured rib, and grabbed the blonde Brittany's wrist, twisting it to release the chair and pulling it behind her back, inching toward the sinks with her hostage under the pressure of a knife at her throat. "Now, now, _Brit._" She hissed out, moving the sweaty blonde strand out of the way with her nose so she could get to her neck. Sticking out a tongue, she licked it, knowing full well that it would agitate the straight girl at her mercy, "I've let you have all the fun you wanted this year, and the year before that." Here she paused to make a small incision, slipping the tip of her muscle into the wound as the rest of the bimbos watched in horror. "Britt.!" They gasped, "Brittany!" "Brittany!" "Britt.!"

"Oh shut the fuck up already, would'ya? If that's all you're going to do: call out her name like you give a damn what I do to her, you can leave, oh hey! There's an idea! Maybe go get some help, for this uhh," again, she stopped, making another cut below the previous to lap at that with grunts and feared struggles from the inflicted, "_young lady._"

Scampering out of the rich bathroom they all fled, one or two screaming, sounds of footsteps pounding against the polished wooden floors of the academy, shouts for someone to contact the police, others of excited boys and girls alike—"You fucking _psycho_!"

"Yeah, well…Can't be helped, can it? Lot'ta good your school's security system does…" she stated apathetically, placing pressure on the blade again, the force behind it not so great that it would break the skin, but hard enough to silence her—for a few seconds.

"You know, you're going to go to fucking_ jail_. I'll make sure my dad gets you the fucking life sentence! You'll never be free, you damn fag. He'll get you a _death sentence_."

"Huh…" she huffed, corners of her mouth pulling up into a huge grin, teeth grinding against each other in joy at the sound of feet getting closer, nearly at the door…barging in...

Bringing her lips closer to that pierced ear she whispered, temporarily reducing her grip on the knife…,

"_I'll welcome it._"

…and drove it into the girl's stomach, twisting, twisting at an angle that was sure to damage one of her child birthing parts.

Screams, gasps from the injured as she slid to the floor clutching a knifeless stomach, more screams, two male officers pushing their way through the crowd, more screams and gasps and barked orders to 'get the hell out of the way'.

Her arms were seized from their position raised in the air, and twisted behind her back, wrists handcuffed after dropping the bloody weapon. Rough, demanding, hands pushed at the middle of her back, urging her on out of the crowded bathroom, head bowed but decorated with that same grin that pressed her eyes into half moons complete with the gleam of silver. Passed the gossiping students, the nurse running into the place of the attack, the people screaming in the bathroom, the boys covering their girls protectively now that the danger was _over_, passed the people backing away slowly in fear of getting hurt now that she was restrained, passed the sickly white halls adorned with perfect gold lockers, and the offices, and the classrooms with the faces of unentertained kids pressing their ugly noses against – she nodded to them, took pleasure in their hasty retreat—passed all of it. Finally they came to the heavy wooden doors, the same ones, in fact, that she passed through this morning, the same ones that failed to detect the hidden knife in her sock, the second in her other, and the third, now evidence, in the hem of her underwear. Outside there were students—there were _always _students there -- smoking their expensive brand of cigarettes, inhaling the second hand smoke of those expensive cigarettes—two whose attention she got.

The first was her friend, not her best, but one of her only; a short girl with her hair always up, glasses today – 'must have forgot her contacts…'she thought—and she looked at her with a curiosity out-done by fear, endless questions flying across her face, swallowed by more…

The second was her best. Her right hand man, her buddy-of-buddies that stuck with her since they were tots; the only remaining survivor of her faith. Hair as white as the clouds they sometimes skipped to watch was patted down rebelliously by a simple black winter hat, the lips that were once snake-bitten held one of those expensive cigarettes –lips that were now smiling restrictedly, not wanting to laugh his ass off then and there.

They nodded to each other, knowing already how this ordeal would turn out, and, through years of having to communicate through broken speech patterns, matured garbles of infant nonsense, and plain-n-simple knowledge of how the other's mind worked—knew what would have to happen for her to be found innocent. She'd have to come back.

'_Early welcome home '. _His squinting happiness flew, thrown by his head's movement.

'_Fufufu…Tadaima…_' Hers replied.

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Okay. I'm freakin' tired...and pissed...'cause I can't see what happens to Yoite...and I really want to T.T But it's pretty obvious what's going to happen...T_T i won't stand for it. Itachi? and then Yoite? Nope. Not going to happen . o.O Review if you happen to read?


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